


Crushing weight of heroism

by The_antivan_reads



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins, Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: .. Gay, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort/Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Fifth Blight, Fluff, Friendship, Gay, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, JUST, M/M, Major Illness, PTSD, Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Illness, Silence, Suicidal Thoughts, Unrequited Crush, Unrequited Love, Well... I'm in severe pain, alistair tells stories, also Eli is trans but it doesn't really come up as a plot point, anora is a slag, canonical violence, defeating archdemons, might be a full fic idk yet, overcomeing illness, paralysation, zevran is supportive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:11:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4917337
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_antivan_reads/pseuds/The_antivan_reads
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair fell to his knees, tears and sweat, dirt and blood all covering his vision and his body, he called out to his lover. He sighed in ragged relief as the elf betrayed his every instinct not to take his eyes off the prize and looked over at the beautiful man in front of him. </p>
<p>A worn out glare in the elf's eye told Alistair it was time. And as his voice cracked, he shuddered. "Alistair, love, if this doesn't-" <br/>He felt a scream welling in his throat, "Whatever happens after this... I love you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"It's time!'  
Alistair shouted over the roars of the archdemon. Rallying the elves, dwarves, Mages and troops that were either screaming in pain, fighting off flanking darkspawn or waiting for one of the two grey wardens in front of them to call the attack on the weakened dragon. "Are you sure what I... did with Morrigan will work?"

Sourness laced her name, a hesitant glimpse up to the elf next to him eased all his woes though, as the warden just smiled a warm one, knowing if the witch was true, there's a chance they'd survive this battle. "It has to."  
They stood in waiting silence before the male elf, Eli, the newest grey warden recruit, smirked, giving into the quietness of the company. As he always did. "Are you ready, love?"

his long, black, unkept hair swept in all directions as he held his great-sword low, nodding at the man next to him in a stage whisper only just loud enough for Alistair to hear.

"No. Not at all. But I know I have to be."  
Alistair wanted to reach for the elf's hand, he really did, but now wasn't the time. He'd said his goodbyes the night before the battle. After the deed had been struck, Alistair returned to their room in silence, closing the door behind him, and he curled under the covers with his elf, holding him close, kissing him tenderly and truthfully, promising that he would always be his. 

And Alistair had meant it.

But now he had to focus on beating this maker-damned dragon. 

Both grey wardens watched as Morrigan and Eli's mabari, Barkspawn, stepped and padded out from the shadows, both men surprised she stayed put for as long as she did after Eli told her to wait with the others. The mabari yapped and wagged his tail with excitement, hopping up onto the chest of a genlock, tearing its throat out, and Morrigan freezing two in place with a flick of her wrist, then following the team up to the Archdemon for the final blow. 

A storm bellowed above them and the winged lizard was beginning to regain its balance, so before that happened, they had to defeat it. 

Now. 

"Now!"

Eli turned so quickly it even shocked his lover. 

His best and closest friend, Zevran, raised his bow high, laughing almost maniacally whilst shooting an arrow at the wailing, grounded beast before pulling out his daggers, and shale grinned eagerly, clapping excitedly and starting in a quick run, punching as many darkspawn as she could along the way.  
The team made their way over to the old Tevinter God, donned in bright, lavender scales, howling purple flame out of its pointed nostrils and through its hundred of knife sized teeth. It's forked tongue flicking in and out, trying with so much effort to beat its tiny enemies...

...but it was too weak now. "I'll handle her!"

Alistair called, charging in for the kill, but as he went for it, his boyfriend got there before him, "no!" 

He cried, slashing all the way down the under, fleshy part of the monster's neck, then clambering up it to ride its head down to the ground. For a fellow warrior, the elf could move so much swifter. Alistair was almost jealous. 

Once the dust had settled from the excruciatingly loud howl the beast made and the deep thump its head created as it collided with the stone of the castle, Eli was standing over the Archdemon's nape, giant sword poised on the tip, ready to split down into the dragons skull. "Eli!"

Alistair fell to his knees, tears and sweat, dirt and blood all covering his vision and his body, he called out to his lover. He sighed in ragged relief as the elf betrayed his every instinct not to take his eyes off the prize and looked over at the beautiful man in front of him. A worn out glare in the elf's eye told Alistair it was time. And as his voice cracked, he shuddered. "Alistair, love, if this doesn't-"  
He felt a scream welling in his throat, "Whatever happens after this... I love you."

"Eli wai-"

The commoner elf, once belonging to a simple alienage in Denerim, gritted his teeth, feeling them crunch together as he raised his weapon high, and slammed it down, planting it deep inside his enemy, feeling the final breaths of the majestic beast underneath him fizzle out. 

But now there was a new threat. 

Eli shut his eyes tightly but tears still streamed out of the creases in his rapidly ageing face, and he felt his flesh being pushed back onto his bones, watching his memories zoom past his mind in double-time; playing swords with his cousins in the alienage, growing up with them at his side all his life, trying to save a wife he never wanted, being recruited into the grey wardens, falling for the royal bastard, a human no less, long nights of love and ecstasy, a small rose from a town long since abandoned, being sworn into a duty he never thought he'd deserve, always keeping up appearances in public even if behind closed doors he was dying inside and out. 

When he first put that damned silver goblet to lips, it was not for him, it wasn't to save his own skin, to evade the Denerim authorities, it was to defend the rest of elves he cared for and are probably long dead by now anyways. It was always his job to protect them all, and by drinking the blood, he'd being trying to save them from more threats than just an asshole's rapist, murdering son.

Now, after everything he'd been through in this year... No. In his life, it'd be over, the life he had before is over. And if he had one after now, was up to the maker.

upturned smile on his lips formed as he heard thunder still clapping in the background. 'Damned weather, as stubborn as always.' 

He held as tightly as he could to his favourite sword while an explosion tried its best to force him away, fling him as far as it could. And for a while, he stayed strong, just like he had promised everyone in his life he would, but once again he was torn away from even that, and let out an incomparable shout as he skidded across the castle's roof, down a set of steps, and was left, discarded like a tiny rag-doll as the blast finally slowed to a stop, and everything was for once, finally...

...silent.

~

Now in stories; the ones Eli had read and been read to his whole life, after the battle was over, the rain would stop and the pain would subside, the crowd would cheer and the underdog hero with the curiously shaped ears and tiny build would pass out, only to wake to find he had conquered, saving the day, being showered in virgins, power and fame... And the hero revelled in it. Forgetting about the hundreds of lives lost prior.

But what he was living was not a story. 

A blood-curdling scream, followed by whimpers orchestrated around the battlefield, women and men crying, not in joy, but in agony. It was all the warden could hear. 

He didn't move to help them though, they were distant murmurs in comparison to the ringing in his head. His back flat on the ground and staring up at the still rain-vomiting sky that shot down searing pin-pricks on Eli's dark, leathery skin. 

He tried to remember the last time he took a breath, so he stole one. he saw his tiny chest rise and fall accordingly; it was short and sharp, like if he did try to breathe he might die. After all, from this day on, for the rest of his life, he was living on borrowed time. Living on borrowed air. The bile that had built up in his mouth swirled down his gullet like a drain, dry flakes of blood mixed with spittle and a strange coppery taste ran all the way down his throat and into his stomach as he laid there, too hesitant to move even a muscle, watching the sky. 

His eyelids were caked with sleep and dirt, but he decided to blink anyway. 

So he was alive after all.

Which also meant the elusive witch of the wilds had disappeared into the stormy evening. 

Behind all the wails of horror and weeps for the deceased, a voice, an almost angelic whimper had moved quickly over to him, now blocking his vision of the clouded sky. Like a port in a storm, Alistair ran over to his beloved and curled himself around the elf. "Oh Eli. You're not dead. Maker you're actually not dead. You're so perfect, so flawless, I love you so much..."

Alistair continued to whisper endearments into his paramour's pointed ear, tickling it slightly, but Eli didn't move. He wanted wrap his arms around the man and kiss him silly, not caring who saw, but instead he just lie there, staring blankly up at the sky. Eventually Alistair caught on that something was wrong "baby?"  
His voice cracked a little, and he wiped his nose with his forearm. "Eli. Eli! Are you there?"

Alistair checked his vitals and sighed when he obviously found a heartbeat. 

Eli summoned all his strength to eventually look into the boys coppery eyes and slowly, ever so carefully, carded his weak finger into the ex-Templar-recruits ginger hair, then letting his palm fall down onto his stubble cupping the man's jaw, and using his photographic memory to record every single detail about the human's stature and irresistible form. It returned to the hard ground quickly afterward, though.

It assured Alistair that Eli was in fact, slightly there in the moment, Then Alistair heard the voice of an elderly woman moving toward them and shot he straight up from his knees, lifting the tiny elf up with him as if he hadn't just been through the worst battle in his life. "Wynne! Wynne! You have to help!"

"What is it dear? Oh my! Come here and we will get him somewhere safe. There is no place to heal him here... I can look over him but that is the best I can do until we return to Soldiers Peak"

Eli turned into the warmth of Alistair's disgusting smelling chest, trying to steal at least some of the heat he was letting off. But Eli was cold, pale and all the colour from his face had been left to melt away along with the remains of the Archdemon. 

Alistair watched the elf closely. He wasn't making any sound but the breaths he only just remembered to take every time he almost ran out of oxygen. Eli's silence made him unnerved and more worried as the seconds ticked by.

The ride back to Soldiers Peak was a awkwardly quiet one. Oghren, Zevran, Shale, Wynne and Leliana all followed the 'heroes' back to the Peak, but Alistair knew they'd leave as soon as they heard word if Eli was alright. As if the whole year they'd spent together meant nothing at all. Alistair knew better than to hope his friends would cross paths with him again.

The group stopped once so Wynne could tend to everybody's wounds as best she could, they all had different agendas when they halted though; Oghren drank till he passed out and had to be strapped to the horse so they could keep going, but it wasn't the same kind of merry drinking Alistair was used to. His drunken Drabble was now just low sobs or him punching the same tree over and over and over again.  
Zevran was quiet, when he wasn't eating little, tiny nips of things and drinking Oghren's brew, just enough to keep him going, he was by Eli's side. When he said he was turning in, and to wake him when they left again, they all knew he wasn't asleep.  
Shale was curled up, knees in her chest as she watched for danger around the camp, but said little other than a few soft words. Alistair caught her talking to Eli at one point, as if he was still awake. Nobody cared. And if they did they never spoke a word about it.  
Leliana received a strange, grim looking raven, with a small piece of parchment tied to its foot. They all knew it was time for her to bow, and leave the stage. How anyone knew of her location was surprising, but she left in the early hours of the morning, not saying goodbye, they all just knew. And she moved into the shadows, leaving the rest to their devices. As for Alistair, he hadn't left Eli's side, but the warden couldn't stop eating. He can't remember the last time he had eaten so much. Maybe it was grief, maybe it was just warden appetite spike.

Very likely chance it was both

Once they got to the Peak, Levi Dryden ran up as soon as they arrived at the crumbling gates. "Messer Alistair! You have returned! Congradu- is... Is he alright?"

Eli had awoken in Alistair's arms and he hadn't even noticed, his dazed expression was almost a paralysed one. It was completely out-of-character for him to be this silent for this long. It looked as though he might start drooling or die right then and there. "Come inside, I had a bed ready made for your arrival."

It was no secret that the two wardens were romantically involved. At least not to everyone in the camp who could hear them. Eli wore it as a badge of honour; Zevran high-five-ing him for making the chantry boy blush better than he ever could, Eli always boasting about it like Alistair is a prize to be won. 

Deep down Alistair and everyone else knew it was all a rouse, Eli was actually a caring, kind person who looked out for his own, and appreciated the people he had left to care about. Always putting pressure on himself, shutting himself down or felt like a disappointment, but on the outside he pretended like he was the smoothest, most confident guy ever. Alistair couldn't get enough of the man.

"Right here Messer, in here."  
Alistair placed the warden on the bed ever-so-gently before pulling the blankets over him, tucking him in. "There is bell-pulley system I have installed here, that rings the servants quarters, and I want you to ring it if either of you gentlemen need anything. Thank you for saving us all."

He bowed and Alistair nodded at the man, lips formed in a grim line. "Please, could you send Wynne in? She will need some bandages and such, if you could assist her in uh- whatever she asks just please do it for me?"

"Of course, Warden Theirin."

Eli laid on his side, staring at the blank wall silently, not moving a single inch. Alistair sat on the other side, his designated side, and reached for Eli's hand, twining their fingers together. The elf let him, but made no recognition that he was even there. Once Wynne had completed her looking over the elf, she nodded toward Alistair, her eyes downcast and her body language uncomfortable. "Please... Wynne... Just-"

"He has broken a couple of bones-"  
she shuffled toward the door, and turned to it longingly as if she never wanted to explain the damage "his right arm and his nose, a lot of his fingers. But they will all heal quickly enough dear... It's his legs-"

"What about them?"

Eli sighed loudly from the side of the bed, covers up to his neck. At least he was actually breathing now "First I should tell you his emotional state is abysmal. But you can already probably see that. He is going through a trauma. Whatever the Archdemon did, it has left him scarred. He must heal at his own pace. Rushing this will make the process harder."

"Please just tell me!"

"I always regret telling Eli that he had to sacrifice his love of you for the greater good..."  
She laughed bitter and morosely, then shook her head "I'm so glad he didn't. If you truly feel the same way as he does Alistair... You must be patient if you wish to see him heal. He will be unresponsive for a while I'm assuming, but you must understand and keep a level head about all this." 

Tears welled in Alistair's eyes, his bottom lip wavered and he gripped his lovers left hand tight. "We are going to get through it together, we have so far."

The old woman sighed, stroking her bridge wearily, finally giving into the human man's whimpers. "There is a likely chance Eli may never walk again."

Alistair said nothing, no gasp, no fit if tears, he was just trying to process the information, but it just wasn't calculating in his head properly. So he thanked Wynne for everything she'd done for them, helped her out of the door, and Alistair watched out the glass stained windows as she walked out the gates of the mountaintop to go retrieve more herbs. It was snowing now, just like when they'd first met at Ostagar.


	2. The assassin knows his stuff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair finds a new hobby, Eli gets marginally better, dogs, and that lusty antivan elf is still hanging around... At least he's being helpful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was done at scary hours of the morning, so sorry if there's any mistakes or the writing quality isn't up to scratch. 
> 
> I'm writing like, three fics right now and it's squishing me. But you're not here to listen to me complain, so have some more pain!

The snow was still pelting down a week later, and Eli hadn't done a single thing but breathe and blink. Stubborn, Alistair stayed with him, only moving to try and get him to drink or eat, and to feed the flames from the fire place which were flicking and lapping up the oxygen, making it warmer. 

"Hey..."  
Alistair sat back on the bed and took the elf's hand once again, rubbing his thumb across his lovers knuckles slowly and tentatively. "I was thinking maybe you'd like to hear a story? I know you love them."

No answer, but Alistair wasn't expecting one. He told it anyway. "One of my first days in the wardens, there was a snow storm quite like this. The dogs were going practically insane, and we were all holed up inside, with only food and our ale to keep us company."  
Alistair chuckled lowly. "I recall one of the wardens... I can't remember his name anymore, he was a dwarf, angry fellow, hardly ever said anything, but always had this intense stare that scared anyone out of their knickers. Even frightened the mabaris, poor things... Ahem, anyway, he decided it was a good idea to run out into the snow because he'd never seen it before, he was new too, you see. He wasn't scared of it like other dwarves, so. Uh- he ran out into the snow yeah? Didn't tell anyone where he was going late afternoon straight into the middle of practically a hurricane. We all followed him to the window and watched him make for the gates. But he stopped, back turned, breathing heavy, then dived right for a huge patch of it, and started making snow angels. It shocked everyone. We all thought he was deserting. when he came back inside, his dark brown beard almost white, his hands on his hips, and the most smug grin on his face I'd ever seen, we all put on our warmest clothes, ran outside and joined him, as painful as the snowfall was, it was so much more fun just to not be morbid for a while you know?"  
Eli sucked in a breath, then let it out. Alistair sighed, grinning, despite the circumstances. He pulled the strings of hair that we're getting too long, out of his face, and grunted, a low, husky whisper. "I love you so much. I just- I thought you should know."

Alistair turned to reach over to the bedside cabinet and turned the lantern's gas off, enclosing the room in darkness. His hand still wrapped tightly around Eli's, and they both pretended they were asleep.

~

The next morning Alistair woke to heavy breathing by his side. Not the breaths of someone asleep, but someone who seemed exhausted, "are you ok?" 

He muttered, shutting his eyes tight, praying to whoever the hell was listening anymore that they could help his heart. If Alistair had been thinking too hard he might have missed it. But this faint, croaked 'no.' Came from the other side of the bed, and he almost jumped for joy. His voice was light from misuse, but Alistair definitely heard it. Now that Eli had spoken, Alistair registered what he had said. The strawberry blonde man had no idea how to help him, and that was starting to wear him thin. But he kept persistent and light-hearted on the outside, for that's what Eli would need right now. "Do you... Want to talk about it?"

The elf said nothing. Alistair didn't expect him to. 

Quickly, Alistair jumped out of bed. Recalling something exciting Ser Dryden had mentioned the night before. "Love, I have a present for you."

He rushed out of the morbid bedroom, and as he gently closed the door, he leaned against it, sighing wearily. Maker this was wearing him thin. The thought of his present kept Alistair going though, as he marched down the hall and swung the furthest door open with a huff. 

Bounding around the room on its feet, almost like a rabbit, a very large, monrel, slobbering rabbit, was Barkspawn. The sight of Alistair made him bark loudly and wag his stubby tail. Both of them ran to each other and embraced. Alistair almost crying, feeling all his emotions at once. He wiped the quickly collecting dog drool from his forearm, onto his shirt, a long streak of wetness across his chest, scratched the dogs chin and it tried to keep still and stood up, placing his hands on his hips. "Hey buddy, how's it been? Daddy's a bit sick at the moment and I thought maybe you could help cheer him up?"

The dog yapped determinedly, a careful but happy stare on its face. "Alright then! Come with me, you funny doggy you!"

They returned to the room together, and to Alistair's surprise, Eli had moved himself up to a sitting position, or that's what it looked like he had attempted to do. "Oh sweetie, come here."

Alistair went to grab his lovers arms, in attempt to help him up. But then Eli gave him a sour stare and hissed. "I can do it myself. I'm not a child. Fuck." 

Alistair retreated, pulling back his hands like he was just burned. Eli continued to move slowly but surely, every few seconds stopping to catch his breath, before trying again. Alistair saw the agony is his expression. All the man wanted to do was help. Alistair's face went hot and his gut felt like it would explode. The dog nudged his side, rubbing it comfortingly, and Alistair couldn't stop the welling in his throat. Eli had never spoken to him with that much hate before. Alistair barely managed to say the next sentence. "I- I brought barkspawn. I thought he might want to see you... H-he misses you a lot... As do I"

The last bit was said very quietly as Alistair left the dog and his master alone as he decided to walk the battlements.

After that, Alistair kept to sleeping a little further from his lovers grasp, but didn't stop trying to help Eli. The elf eventually ate and drank something, but only because Alistair was on his knees begging the man. Slowly, their comrades trickled out and left them. 

Shale and Wynne set off to rivain... Or was it Tevinter? To go in search of maker knows what, Alistair was told what they were doing, but honestly, he really didn't care anymore.  
A few days after, Oghren left to go find Felsi, patted Eli on the forehead, smiled crookedly, slapped Alistair on the back for good measure, and left without another word.  
Sandal and Bodhan were headed to Kirkwall, or so the letter he received said.

Zevran... stayed. "Where else would I go?"  
He smirked. "It's not like I have a lovely partner waiting at home for me... For now, my home is here, if you'll have me."

Alistair found it almost hilarious that the man who was trying to kill them both but a few months ago was now one of his most trusted friends and companions. But here he was; still supporting them both and taking most of the guard duties and helping out in any way he could. He couldn't help but feel Zevran had an ulterior motive, and Alistair, ever the poet, asked him right out if he did or not. "As I have mentioned before. I am still on the run from an entire country's worth of assassins. Please forgive me if I find your company the safest place to be right now. Maybe in a few weeks I may depart, but perhaps we should just wait and see, no?"

Zevran disappeared most days, where he went to, the warden had no idea, but his focus was on healing his lover. Days were spent tending to the elf and talking to him even if he wouldn't talk back, helping keep the peak clean, assisting in cook meals that would just get eaten by only Alistair anyways, and his newest hobby; writing. 

He wasn't very good at it; frankly when he first started he hated it, he'd never been committed enough to keep a diary, and truthfully he never saw the point in it. Some days the pages would end up ripped all over the room and he'd kick walls in frustration. 

But then after a few pages worth of it, Alistair realised the whole process was curiously rewarding. He felt... Calm. Serene. He'd tear his hair out trying to make up a good story for his boyfriend, then when it came to read it to him, he beamed the whole time he relayed it. Even in the sad parts. He couldn't help it. He was proud of what he had made, despite the grief everything around him made him feel. Some were fiction, most were stories from his life warped a little, and some were just him whispering how much he loved Eli I'm the dark and would stay by his side no matter what. Like he promised. When he'd just scrapped a horrible plot about a terrifying dark haired woman with strong cheekbones and an affinity for shoddy romance novels, an idea sparked in his head.

"I have to write a letter to Bodhan."

He said to nobody. Alistair wondered if this was a common trait in writers. Not that he professed himself as much, but it was funny to think people like the famous 'varric tethras' would speak his dialogue out loud. Alistair hummed as he pulled out a scrap piece of parchment, trying to remember his idea as vividly as he could, and began writing to his old friend. 

'To Messer Bodhan Feddic and Master Sandal Feddic.' 

"Good, good. Looking official. Great work Alistair. Why thank you Alistair." 

He giggled. 

'What I am about to ask you may seem... Strange, but I thought with your son's skills and your 'tendency' to acquire strange and unusual objects, you could assist me in finding a chair with wheels. I sort of had a plan on what it could look like...'

Alistair scribbled an extremely messy, small diagram of exactly what he was imagining, and nodded confidently. 'Please send word if you could help me in making or finding something like this, it is of extreme urgency, I hate to burden you both further but it is for Eli. 

If you can find me a way to retrieve and object like this, I will pay you both handsomely.

Your dear friend and colleague, Ser Alistair Theirin' 

He knew the letter was poorly written. But it didn't matter so long as Bodhan got the message. As soon as he had sealed the request. He promptly sent it away on a raven, hoping it would reach Bodhan in time before he left to go too far away. He prayed it did.

 

16 days rolled by and Alistair had been practically holed up in his study the whole time. Between that, the kitchens and his bedroom, he'd made no inclination to explore anywhere else. 

He also had not made a single move to prepare for Anora's grand ceremony which was in 48 hours. Even though the thought was scratching at the back of his mind as if it had replaced the Archdemons whispers. 'She is as bad as an Archdemon ' Alistair wanted snigger to himself in his study. But no- that wasn't as funny anymore... Nothing was funny anymore.

They had to attend. Eli had to go. He stopped the blight, he had to be there to show the world he was ok, and he was an example to Thedas that anyone can be brave, wether you a noble, or a commoner. That's what the queen was waiting for. She would be greatly disappointed if neither of them turned up at all. But Eli wasn't ok. That was the whole debacle.

If they were going- it meant fancy clothes... or grey warden armour, which one should they wear? How was he going to move Eli without arousing suspicion? They were obviously going to have to say a speech, so he'd have to write one, or try and make something up on the spot, and everyone will be expecting Eli to make small talk wherever he possibly can, how could he explain to the Ferelden court that his originally charismatic and flirty lover was hurting? Should he bring company? Write to Bann Teagan for help? Should he ask Zevran to come, lest things get... Assassiny?

It clicked in Alistair's head then. Zevran knew something about courts right? Antiva was a generally fancy place, it wasn't Orlais but... "Z-Zevran!" 

Alistair hadn't realised he was hyperventilating at the thought of having to manage all the weight that he'd placed on its own shoulders from overthinking. 

He didn't expect the elf to come, he wasn't his servant. So Alistair did the next best thing and pulled heavily on the tiny chain sitting in front of him, calling Dryden, from the literal servants quarters and huffed a small strand of rogue hair out of his face. "W- where's Zevran?"

"Oh he would be up in his room messer!"

"Riiiighhhht. And uh- where's that exactly?"

"Across the bridge, ser, he's been spending most of his time in blood mage's tower. After his passing."

Alistair began to shut his leather-bound journal, and twiddled the small quill between his teeth. "Uh-huh. Well, thank you." 

"Anything else you need?"

"Has he eaten at all since we have been here? Zevran, I mean." 

Levi shrugged. "He sneaks into the kitchens at night, but doesn't take so much it's a burden on us. Would you like me to prepare something?"

"That would be lovely of you. Thank you Levi."

"Of course."

He ducked his head out and Alistair tidied up the room, the cleaning keeping his mind off the tiny fragment of dread that had been sitting in his stomach since defeating the archdemon. Maybe some of its soul had latched onto him and his lover somehow? 

-no. Alistair wasn't going to spend his days pondering on what-ifs. He'd done that for 20 years too long.

Levi returned quickly, bowing politely as Alistair thanked him, giving him a generous amount of sovereigns and made his way to the bridge. 

Before he left, he grabbed several coats, and covered himself up, sealing any holes where the winter air could seep in and freeze him to death, sandwich, quill and his journal tucked carefully under his arm, he opened the door with a struggle to keep it from slamming. "Woah!" 

He cried as the frozen air gushed in the small hole that opened up his face. "S-shit... I-it's freezing" 

Alistair began to slowly make his way across the crumbling bridge through the middle of a snowstorm. Very quickly, the cunning air found its way into Alistair's clothes, getting damper by the second, but found himself to be extremely lucky because he was there. 

Once inside, through great difficult of trying to shut out the rapid winds attempting to burst in and freeze the room completely, the warden called out in the vast expanses of the large tower, wondering where the hell Zevran could be. Alistair stopped and took in just how clean the enormous room actually was since he was last here. The crow had been cleaning. All the leather bound books that had been splayed across the room were now neatly ordered at the back, set up in bookshelves, the bloody stains gone from the floor, it didn't smell faintly like metal and sweat anymore, but a strange fragrance of lavender and what he could assume was fine, Anitvan wine. But the thing that surprised Alistair the most was the torture devices had been thrown into one corner, along with the cages that hung from the roof, the spiked death traps in the floor were boarded up, the ones in the walls had lost their impaled bodies, but were now being used for, on closer inspection, coat hangers and supply holders. He jerked back from the prick of the spike when he heard a sultry, charismatic voice from afar. "I am nothing, if not practical,my fine warden friend." 

Zevran was suspended, quite high above the bookshelves on a makeshift hammock. He began to twirl down it with grace and precision, eventually meeting Alistair on the ground, forcing one hand to his hip and looked up smugly at him. For someone much shorter than Alistair was, he sure had a way to make him feel minuscule.

"U-uh yeah. Good to know. Um I brought you some food."

Alistair pulled the rolls from out of the third layer of coat and raised it high. An olive branch for sneaking around Zevran's claim. Even if technically the wardens owned this land, the elf was just as much of a grey warden as he was, bar the demonic blood coursing through his veins. He unwrapped the food, sitting it down at the table clumsily, nodding at Zevran to follow him and the sandwich. He did so quietly. "I wanted to ask you-"  
Alistair gulped, his throat getting dry for reasons he didn't know. He shed a layer of coat. "If you could help Eli and I get ready for the ceremony. I'm sure you know about it. I know you read our mail."

"Why of course I do!"  
Zevran broke out a cheeky smile. "Who else will pry into your business if not Ser Dryden or I?"

"Dryden reads our mail?!"

Alistair said incredulously. Zevran smiled and rolled his eyes. 

Of course the man did. How was he surprised. Zevran probably offered the man a chance to read through all the fan mail they were delivered.

The ex-assassin took a bite of the roll. He grunted with satisfaction at the taste. In between mouthfuls, he mumbled. "I suppose you want assistance if people will try to have you killed. The answer is yes. They will try. By any means necessary. They could poison your food, kill you from a vantage point, stab you blatantly in the back while the queen is addressing the guests, or there are more... Creative ways, but these are the classic and most prominent forms of assassination. I am sure you want me to be your bodyguard, no?"

"Well..." Alistair took the other, taking a bite into it. It tasked plain and bland. It disappointed him, more so than everything else so far really. "Yes, that is what I came to ask... But I also was wondering if you could help us on how to... Conduct ourselves?"

Zevran laughed a little at that, but realised the warden was serious, so got down to business. "I have spent many an evening court proceedings, many just to watch a new king take the throne, only to have him assassinated that night, but I do understand of what you are asking of me. I believe I may be able to help."

The two worked in Alistair journal, writing down all the things that would be needed in preparation. Zevran mentioned things Alistair had no idea he even needed, and some things he knew he didn't, but Zevran got a kick out of making him blush. He knew Eli would have too. "So..."  
Alistair mumbled, wether to himself or the elf, he didn't care. "Wear the warden armour, take antidotes of all kinds in a satchel you will provide me wi- with"  
Zevran had left his chair to begin grabbing ingredients for these antidotes. "What about the ones you can't cure?" 

"Pssh warden. There is a cure for everything, and if there isn't, then I will just have to suck out the poison for you or your lovely companion. Maybe we should get an official taste-tester... No. I think we will be fine."

Zevran continued to dawdle to his own thoughts as Alistair kept reading "you'll handle any archers and assassins, I will have to work on a speech. If Bodhan can make what I'm looking for, all that is left is for Eli to agree to attend."

"Denerim is a day's ride from here, so we must depart with haste." 

"Good idea. We will leave as soon as the festivities are over, and return here... To begin to- uh, rebuild the Ferelden grey wardens I guess."

"For now, let's focus on what each antidote is for no?"

They spent the rest of the afternoon learning curious tonics and what they were for. Zevran rolled the pack up and handed to Alistair, nodding in confidence of what signs to look for and how to treat it. "Then to Denerim... I guess."


	3. Thunder only happens...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poor Eli. :(((( 
> 
> Maybe his new friends can help him out? Or maybe in their naivety they will force Eli to remember parts of himself he'd care to forget...

Eli woke. For once he had actually awoken from an actual rest. He hadn't been getting any at all lately, six days without a single snore kept him shivering. The elf's nails had been starting to crack away, and he had been shaking a lot more. Not that Alistair noticed. Or if he did, he hadn't said anything.

His dry eyes fluttered open, dust trickling down from the expanse of bluey-green sky. He was curled up on the flat pillow he felt between his arms, relaxing in spongey ground. It was comfortable, it made him feel serene, and safe. 

Until Eli realised it wasn't cloud or any other dreamscape flooring, but hard, wooden, planks. The elf was sure by this point he had dreamt the support of the ground up. "Ugh... My head..."

He rubbed at his eyes, letting his head hit the floor with a light thump, for the pillow had disappeared.  
Then, as his skull was throbbing with weariness, he heard the faintest sound of footsteps drawing nearer. 

As if on instinct, Eli moved himself, shutting his eyes tight and scrambling for the furthest wall, trying to find his dagger, his bow, a goddamned staff...  
Anything.

His breath low and warning, he hissed at the being he could only see the silhouette of in the dark room. Only did Eli stop when he realised the familiar voice, trying to reach down to grab his shoulders.  
"Cousin? What're you doing? Are you alright? What's gotten into you! You can't act like this; It's your wedding day!"

A woman's voice and a pair of manly elven arms pulled him to his feet. His voice barely a whisper, it cracked from disuse and even a small bit of fear. "Shianni? Soris?"

His family, his best friends. They were standing in front of him. So real, so... not dead. 

He was home. 

Eli stood quickly to embrace them, holding them tight. "I-I thought you died."

"What? Don't be silly, silly! We are fine!" 

Eli jumped for joy. Then he jumped a few times more on his perfectly functional legs with astonishment. His breathing ragged with shock. He was too joyous to even consider any other possibility that the last year of his life had just been a bad dream and he had finally returned to his duties of protecting the alienage, not having to worry about darkspawn and their putrid, misshaped faces, broodmothers, demons and magic that shouldn't exist. It was all in his head.

It was all over.

His cousins just looked at him with curiosity as he grinned the biggest, toothiest smile he had in a long time. Eli felt like himself again, as if by some enchantment, all the weight of his worries, and thoughts and hurting had been lifted from his shoulders. He felt clean. The metallic residue of darkspawn blood in his mouth that had lingered a year after was no longer there. His head didn't feel murky like the deepest bogs of the Brecillian forest and his body felt pure and weightless. "Cmon, your blushing bride is waiting!"

Shianni was going a million miles an hour, her face almost as red as her hair. She tried to push Eli to the door. But he had to stop for a moment and find his bearings. "In my dream... My to-be-wife ran back to highever! And I'm-"   
The thought of Alistair finally smacked Eli in the head "I'm In love now! I have to find him. have to get to the grey wardens."

His cousins both shot him a doubtful stare. "The grey wardens? What are you talking about? Eli... This- person. He was in your dreams. He is a man you made up in the fade. You can't love him- maker! Your wedding is in five minutes! We must go now!"

Eli shrugged out of her grip and looked expectantly at Soris. "Cousin... You can hope that one day this man you dreamt up may come and save you from this burden. But right now, you need to think about the future of our alienage. Who knows? Maybe you'll fall in love with your new spouse-"

"No! I need to tell him. I need to tell him how much I love him! Just one more time... He deserves to know. After everything I've done- after everything he's done for me, all we have sacrificed; I deserve to tell him"

Eli looked down at his legs, watching them in equal parts awe and longing. His pining only stopped when the flame headed elf pursed her lips in empathy. "I'm sorry Eli. You have to stay strong and go through with this. If you don't, we won't have enough money to feed the children for the next year."

Eli lowered his head. After finally finding the voice he had lost for so long, the one filled with love and compassion, he wanted nothing but to not have to speak ever again. He knew there was no backing out. How could they survive for the next year? 

Soris ignored Shianni's guilt trip and grabbed Eli's hand, nodding at him warmly. Then pulled him out onto the dirty street. His palm was sweaty and leathery. Very much like Eli remembered. He smelled of burnt bread and sandalwood. They all looked knowingly at each other when Shianni messily preened him, ruffling his long dark strands to make them less orderly then hugged both of them. Her body rigid because she had no idea how to express her gleefulness for her relatives. Her bright red hair poked at Eli's eyes and he tried to blow it away. She smelt much less clean, of sweat and dirt, she was always trying to be messy on purpose though, just to make their uncle mad. They were three peas in a pod. Always had been since they were young, and now they'd have to go live new lives with their -equally as new- elven acquaintances.

It was almost dusk, the afternoon sun beginning to shy away. As the not-really-warden looked around, he saw no sign of his father, most likely lost in the mass elves that had gathered around a large stage, oo-ing and ahh-ing at the new comers, "I heard your betrothed is just beautiful!"

The elf girl grinned eagerly, finally letting go and running into the square, uncaring if she got mud on her bridesmaid's dress. She kicked a couple of wine bottles that were discarded on the ground around, and made the effort of dancing and twirling in a few puddles, before Cyrion, their uncle hissed at her. "Shianni. Come here right now. It's starting." 

Eli snickered and she turned to poke her tongue out at him as he laughed and got closer the the crowd. "Shianni is right you know."   
Soris leaned over into Eli's space. "They sound like a dream come true... Kind, brave, pretty... I wonder what my wife will be like; gosh I am nervous. What if she isn't everything I thought she'd be as a child? I must keep positive. I know she will be great... Won't she?"

"It'll- it'll be fine, Soris."  
Eli whispered, petting the man's back comfortingly, feeling a strong sense of déjà vu and awkwardness. Alleviating another's worries was not his strong point. "She's going to be amazing. Cyrion wouldn't have picked her for you if he didn't believe you two would be good together. That goes for me too. I'm sure this... 'Woman' that I am betrothed to will be everything I hoped for."

Eli sighed, he couldn't hide his disappointment. Cyrion and Soris knew his interest in men, but Eli knew he had a responsibility. He had to feed his friends and family, and the only way to do that was to be married off to an elven woman he'd know he could never fully commit to. The alienage's elder knew what was best. Even if it wasn't best for the singular people, it was best for the people as a whole.

Suddenly realising he was donned in his fanciest clothes, Eli was shoved up onto the stage along with his cousin, and cheers from the crowd ushered him up closer to the woman he was set to marry. 

But-- it wasn't a woman.

The man turned around, a bright, beautiful rose threaded through his large, chubby, soft fingers, he had strawberry blonde- almost red hair in the afternoon air looking so touchable, so soft. Eli just wanted to reach out and run his fingers through it. Tug at it the way he knew the man loved.  
The human's eyes were like fresh dirt after rain, but with the bright red that was dusted across his freckled cheeks, the brown irises popped in an unusual way and reminded Eli the beautiful Orlesian beads that were sold in the marketplace.  
His lips were pinker and more puffed up than Eli had expected, and if he hadn't known Alistair for so long, he wouldn't have guessed the man had be crying. His mouth in a puppy-like pout, his eyes watering. "Love?"

Eli croaked. The human looked at Eli longingly through his lashes, but made no point to say anything. He actually appeared as though he was peering through Eli. The elf tilted his head and finally reached out for his lover hesitantly, fingers stretching, about to trace along the man's strangely stubbled jaw that Eli loved because it reminded him of the feel of peaches in the springtime. But there was no fuzzy cheek, no soft hand clasping over his own, his tether to life, one of the only people who ever supported him wholeheartedly without ever pressuring him into anything, or making him feel bad because of his decisions, began becoming opaque, to Eli's sudden alarm. 

Eli didn't feel any of that comfort right then. No feeling of security. Just disappointment as Alistair's hollow eyes began to melt away like he was just dust in the afternoon air. The flawless flower had began to warp- thrones pierces his pale skin and blood began to drip around the crevices of his tightly woven fingers. The petals turned brown and grotesque, eventually falling away to the ground and turning into ash. Eli tried to call for him to come back. Demand he did so immediately. But his voice was impaired, for if he opened his mouth his lips would let out a cry. His eyes stung with tears, a ball of bile erupting in his throat as he clawed pleadingly at the humans withering frame; slowly evanesced and flew off like an eclipse of very small moths, all retreating into the darkness. 

Joyous shouts turned into screams as a dark shadow lurked overhead, casting dark in Eli's light. He turned to inspect the sudden dim of light. "Vaughan"

Eli hissed. Urien's brutish, bastard of a son glaring down at all of the elves demoniacally. "I take pride in knowing you are acquainted with my name..."  
He grinned toothily, grabbing the collar of Eli's wedding clothes and reeling him up to his face, Eli's feet dangling just off the floor. He furrowed his brow and stared down the elf who looked but a child in comparison.  
"But where are my manners? How could I forget the infamous, son-of-a-dead-elf-whore who is in charge of protecting all of these vermin."

Eli smirked, brushing off the comment. "That's right. And I seem to be doing a good job because I haven't let them come too close to you yet."

"Well that ends today you- why are you laughing? Stop it you-"   
Eli sniggered crazily and spat directly into Vaughan's eye. "Fuck! Mongrel, elven fuck!"

Finally free of the humans firm grip, Eli pulled out a dagger he hoped he'd had hiding in his boot. It was a habit of his to keep the small elderwood knife so close at hand. He flourished it once, advancing on the man still whining about a little spit, and Eli shoved right into the stomach of the rapist with all his might. "It brings me joy to finally see you dead for good this time."   
Eli pulled the knife out with force, just like zevran had taught him, tilting it up just that little bit, and kicked him down to the floor. Vaughan chocked a few curses, curled up on the termite-infested wood, tainting it a deep, red colour from his gut and out of his mouth. The familiar smell of metal and blood returned to Eli as if it had never left the real world.

As Vaughan coughed and sputtered, he took his last breaths, leaving -what Eli finally realised was the fade- with a sinister, unholy look. "Vaughan... He was the first person I ever looked in the eyes and killed. I took his life. He was the first."

Eli breathed to nobody, maybe the murky air that had surrounded him perhaps, or the bright, sparkling moon surveying them almost condescendingly. Sheathing the knife quickly in shock, he stepped back away from the dead human, shaking ever so slightly.

The elves began to squabble and eventually erupted into gossip, many of them surrounding their elf saviour and together, they pulled him off the spectacle ridden stage and down to a table where there were many fine, expensive looking goblets full of deep red and clear wines. Blaring lutes, singers and other instruments welled behind him as many strange elves -some even the warden had never seen before- fed him alcohols of many different countries. 

If Eli knew anything, it was his poisons.

As the line became smaller, Eli took note that final gift-giver was much taller than the other elves he'd met so far, and behind all of the eager alienage members, he could tell this one had a beard. Not a small stubble, much like Eli had, but a full, luscious, almost dwarf-like beard. 

Once it was finally the elf-at-the-end's turn, Eli realised he was not, in fact, of elven origin, but yet another human. His skin was a dark paled colour, his cheeks hollow but mostly hidden under his black, silky, curly facial hair. He was wearing white armour that had strange carvings like vines and flowers swirling up his arms and chest. It shone brightly, glowed even, making him stand out from the pale, brown and green hues of the inhabitants of the alienage. 

The mysterious, tall human looked like that Tevinter woman that sold silks in the Denerim streets sometimes. She mistook him for one of her slaves on multiple occasions. Her face and condescending expressions nah irked him to no end, but this man... Duncan... Eli automatically met him with a warm smile, his Orlesian accent ridiculously prominent as he smiled warmly, handing Eli the goblet. 

"In war... Victory..."

Eli gulped down spit as he eyed the cup hesitantly, a bead of sweat trailed down his forehead, feeling the same drop of his gut he felt when he eyed Ser Jory and Daveth dead on the cold, concrete stone of Ostagar. The first war he'd ever fought. With his heart, his head and his whole being.

"In peace... Vigilance..."

For a while he felt at peace, long nights of love with Alistair, walks in the woods made him feel serenity, his new found friends, each of them forgetting the horrors that were to await them. But in the back of his mind, Eli knew he couldn't get too comfortable. He had to stay strong, stay focused. He couldn't let his guard down. Even if he had for love.

"In death... Sacrifice..."

Eli pulled the chalice to his lips once more. It was frozen to the touch against his blistered, dry skin, cooling it. He swallowed the liquid he tried hard to forget was 'an old God embodied in a cup'. As soon as it touched his lips it began to sting, trying to make its way into every cut and infected slash that rested on his mouth. When he swallowed it burned, quickly guzzling it, he felt as though he had the most severe case of heart-burn ever. It felt like it was melting the flesh right out of the inside of his neck. 

He stifled a scream, and chose to pant uncontrollably instead. His eyes shut tight, trying to will away the pain, he winced. The liquid, now finally in his stomach, was bubbling and sizzling inside of him like he'd drank acid. He knew the feeling would pass eventually though, despite his obvious discomfort. Eli couldn't remember how long he'd been knocked out for the first time, so he hoped he wouldn't pass out right now, In front of all his elven friends.

When Eli finally had adapted to the blood, he opened his big, blueish grey irises. 

Night had donned on Eli in the blink of an eye. 

All the cheering had stopped, only tiny candles lit the street and lanterns that hung against the hovel doorways were quickly going out. Releasing a small bout of smoke, then stilling into silence. Everyone had retreated to their homes it seemed. 

No one left them either when at the bridge Eli heard a shout. "Alistair!"  
Eli called back, climbing off the stage, and running for the entrance of the alienage as fast as his short, twig like legs could carry him. "Alistair!" 

He tripped, the legs of a ghost like man with clear milky white eyes caught him before he could fall any further, he was wearing Templar armour. His balding head and vacant stare frightened the elf, and he shook in the man's grasp. Eli knew that Templar... He had died. Right here in the alienage. In the demon filled orphanage. Eli remembered when the orphanage was just that, and there were no Tevinter slavers stealing all of his friends and family either. Nothing like this ever happened while Eli or his mother was there... Maybe in a way, he'd let down the alienage too. Just another thing he'd failed at. 

He was pulled out of his depressive thoughts when a choked "Eli!" came from the bridge.

Underneath an extremely large, purple claw was Alistair. He was pinned to the ground, head tilted back, tears streaming his eyes as he gasped, hand held out, trying to reach for his lover. Alistair was trapped in a cage of scaled fingers, curling closer and closer to crushing him. Eli couldn't make it there in time. "No..."  
Eli breathed, his heart thumping out of his chest and time slowing as the beast finally curled its claws around the human, raising him high over its head, tossing him a far ways away, landing with a loud 'crunch'.  
"Alistair!"

A scream ripped through Eli, almost as inhuman as the archdemon as he wailed. "Cousin! Go! I'll handle the monster! I am strong enough!"

Shianni was wearing the most beautiful, drgaon-scale armour Eli knew too well. Her braids long fallen out, dried blood splashed all across her face, she held her bow high, flinging arrows, catching it's attention while Eli noticed he was now strapped, full clad in his grey-warden chest plate, he aimed his dagger right between the flaming eyes of the dragon and ran to the man who was discarded like a ragdoll. He didn't care if it hit or not.

"Alistair I'm sorry I'm so sorry- I don't know how to fix this-"

The more Eli ran, apologising lethargically to the man -who's eyes were snapped open, staring blankly in front of him like he'd just seen something indescribable, blood caked all over his face, barely recognisable anymore, his limbs sprawled in all unnatural directions, neck bleeding out onto the stone- the further he seemed to move away. Until he began to fly like mist once more into the air, no longer even existing.

Eli fell to his knees and began to cry. 

He had failed Alistair. He'd failed his cousins, he had failed everyone. Eli sobbed for what felt like days and days... Never expressing as much emotion for so long before. It wasn't as he expected his revelation of pain to be, a lot more hyperventilating included, and he hadn't counted on being in the fade when the pain finally washed itself over him. But time didn't exist in the maker-damned fade, only things that swirled around in his mind like a dirty broth of sorrows. The archdemon had disappeared, and all that was left was the loud whimpers of the elf wrapped up on the cold stone. He knew he shouldn't be alive, he should have died, and for that, the final evil deed, he was paying for it now with memories that haunted him and guilt that ripped through his already broken heart.

He should be dead.

Maybe that's all it took to right the world once more.

"There is more hope than you realise Eli Tabris..."

Soris voice and hand hovered over his shoulder-blade.  
Both his cousins words were more hallowed now, like visions, memories Eli could only attain in the fade. "What if I don't want to fight anymore? I've lost everything..."

"You haven't lost Alistair. He still loves you Eli. You may find it hard to tell him, but you care for him just as equally. You have to stay vigilant if you want to keep him in your life. He cannot heal you as much as he wishes he could, and as hard as he will try, but he will be your cause. Your reason to keep fighting if nothing else is."

Eli raised an eyebrow suspiciously, pursing his lips into a firm line. "You two aren't just memories... Are you?" 

Eli tried to stand... But his legs wouldn't pick him up. "We are sorry for the deception, Hero of Ferelden. I am not Shianni, child. I am what you humans would call Fortitude, and this is Faith. Not the same spirit that protected your friend, but the same cause. We are here to assist you. We want to help. We have chosen these bodies because they are symbols of your life before you fell from grace. We are here because you called to us. Your soul so tormented it needed repair. We have been watching you for a while..."

"Watching me? Why?"

Eli let out a chocked sob. The spirits in his cousins bodies traded looks, when Soris- Faith nodded. "Faith had been corrupted by human desires... It was once sloth, also known as torpor, unmoved to try and see reason or want to. But you saved it. Your actions in the world of mortals, and my determination to heal my friend inspired faith to return to its original purpose. It has asked me to assist in returning the favour to you. I accepted, and what I have seen from you is beyond astounding. You are strong willed and a proud mortal. The man you are now is not who you once were."

"You are not a Mage, but you wield a metaphorical fire, a salvation where there was none. I wanted to teach you as I have learned. Nothing is lost if you believe in it. I am a symbol of that being true. I wanted to thank you"

"So... Not only one, but two rare spirits have attached themselves to me because of who I am and how I've acted in the real world?"

"This world is just as tangible as your own-"

"Yeah. But you know what I mean."

They both nodded methodically. They soon began floating around Eli with a certain ethereal rhythm. He was not shaken, nor intimidated, however. He had only ever met one other spirit before, and it was protecting and sapping its own life-force for his dear, mother-figure, Wynne, hence he regarded them lightly, but knew not to toy with them either.

Although they obviously wanted to talk about something Eli was definitely not ready to face, he knew better than to startle either spirit. For a moment, both being's faces reflected the old mage's because of the elf's fond thoughts of her. Then they quickly returned to his cousins. "You are of no magical origin, but you gather quite the following of our brethren. Both pure and the more... Corrupt of us."

"You mean-?"

"The one you call Vaughan. Yes. Rage somehow made its way into our fantasy, we did not wish to show you hostility. But this Rage was cunning, we had to mask it lest you awaken too soon. Our mistake, it seems."

Still kneeling, Eli looked around. The alienage had disappeared, and all that was left were warped trees and lyrium roots that grew right from the ground he'd known so well when travelling the fade for the last twenty-odd years of his life. "So you came to thank me? That's it?"

"You must look around and see what is at your disposal if you are to keep on fighting everyday. We spirits attempt to bend the fade around us like mages, some jealous of their beauty, causing them to turn corrupt, only then can we dissipate from existence. Your life is fragile, but worthy of our patience. We are here to explain to you that you underestimate your fidelity to your life."

"My fidelity to- you are both joking right?"

Eli looked baffled, folding his arms. "Do we appear to be humouring you? If so, we will try harder to make you understand-"

"No. No. It's fine fortitude. Just continue."

"If you insist."  
Faith moved away gracefully, leaving a trail of glowing wisp underneath it, it's feet faded and somewhat translucent, but it was fortitude who turned and spoke to him. "If you continue down the path you are travelling, the minimal amount of lives you still hold dear will be endangered. Time is non-existent in this plain, and we can feel the catastrophe verging closer. Many will die if you are not there to stop it. But you must, for it is your job. Your right. The only one you have. Destroy the mother and father, and you shall finally be free."

"If you do not succeed, many more will perish under the creatures' wrath. Eventually the tainted will be killed, but not quick enough for you or those you care for to live. So you must believe in yourself and hope that you choose the right path like we know you can."

"It will be difficult -the next year- but if you are persistent and try against all odds, the likely-hood of you saving most is high. Otherwise, you will never see Zevran, Alistair, or your family... Ever again"

Eli went to speak, but his voice was cracked, flawed and unusable. It felt like all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. The world around began to blur, and Eli couldn't even see his own hands. With one last deep breath, he fell into nothingness.


	4. Wheeled thrones

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A cute fluffy chapter with a lot less pain than I was planning to put in it. Freezing elves and Bathtub times galore

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter. My brain just was not letting me write any more. 
> 
> So here goes it <3

"I am just shocked Bodhan actually came through... Look at this! I can't wait to show Eli! I can take him outside, and help him get clean, we can go to Denerim to go see his family... and it's going to be so great. Where should we go first?"

Alistair couldn't help but ignore the rest of the hired help whom were carrying supplies exhaustingly into the castle. He wasn't trying to be rude, he would always help carry things in usually, but today was different, today he cared more about the object he was eyeing than the ginormous cheese wheels being rolled into the keep. 

The warden jumped up and down excitedly in the snow, it crumpled beneath his feet like powder, whilst Zevran stood next to him, his tan, leathery face had turned a blueish colour, and he was rubbing his palms, breathing clouds into the air. His ears wiggled as he flinched in the cold, rolling his giant eyes every time Alistair kicked up a bit of flurry. "Whilst that's all well and good, it is extremely freezing out here. Perhaps we should go show your lover his new gift, hm?"

"Dont like the cold Zev?"

Alistair cocked his eyebrow, returning to a conversation they'd had countless times over the last year.

The antivan elf chose to ignore Alistair though, and instead traced his finger across the beautifully carved wood of the object sitting carefully on the back of a carriage, grinning with awe at it. 

"I am extremely surprised... You of all people designed and created this, Alistair. Maybe you're not as daft as I originally thought. Or maybe my intelligence has rubbed off on you, no?"

"Oh har har har Zev."

Alistair poked out his tongue mockingly. The elf just smirked.

Alistair grabbed the unusual chair with wheels off the chariot and hoisted it above his head, ecstatically lunging through the snow, leaving Zevran behind to make his way back into the warmth on his own, and Alistair heard and annoyed grunt behind him but continued on. He glided up the steps and bursted into the castle with melodramatic flair. 

"Love! I got you another gift!"

A violently loud bark came from Eli's quarters and Alistair wheeled the chair down the hall, grinning from slightly pointer ear to slightly pointed ear.  
"What is it?"

Eli mumbled as his boyfriend walked in the room, giving his weary mabari one last thorough scratch behind the ears. "Look what I had commissioned for you. I came up with the idea myself."

Alistair closed his eyes tight. As excited as he was, he was also terrified Eli would hate the idea, once again getting angry at Alistair for being so inconsiderate and foolish and the last thing Alistair wanted to be in anyone's eyes was either of those things. Especially in his lovers opinion. He prayed he couldn't stuff yet another thing up, and this time he'd have done the right thing. "It's..."  
The expression on the elf's face was unreadable. Alistair moved it closer, it's large wheels only making the slightest noise, which could be amended with some maintenance anyways. "Can we go outside right now?"

The first half smile Alistair had seen since the battle was plastered on the elf's face. And it was the most rewarding feeling the human had felt for a long time. "Well, first I- I was thinking we could bathe you, and then we could go outside, if that's ok with you."

"Yes... A bath sounds... Good. This bed is making me nauseous. Let's go now."

Alistair smiled and placed a few pillows from the bed onto the chair. He was so glad Eli had started to speak to him again. Even if it was only a few words. Just hearing his voice had relieved some of the crushing weight on Alistair's back. "Is it alright if I..."

Alistair reached his arms out, but kept his distance. He never wanted to overstep again. "Yes please."

He mumbled, returning the stretched gesture. Alistair laced their fingers as he pulled him out of bed, comforters long discarded. A frustrated flush dusted across his cheeks and Alistair knew he was annoyed that he couldn't help himself. The human knew Eli too well. Alistair did try not to feel bad for him, but he still felt vile because he couldn't do anything about it. Carefully, Alistair hoisted the light elf from what was assumed to be his permanent resting place, to his new, 'wheeled chair'.

It creaked with the weight. But eventually adjusted and held the elf quite well. "It's amazing love."

Eli reached backward to gently thumb Alistair's hand as they made their way to the washrooms. Alistair felt a comfortable silence settle between them, one neither had felt in a few months. 

They turned the corner, finally entering through the dark, wooden door, and left Eli to his own devices as Alistair let the water on carefully, almost self-conscious in his movements, making sure the heat was right. Then carefully, pulled his shirt over his head. He let the cleanliness and complete purity of the steam now fogging the room wash over him and turned back to Eli, the elf's already large, golden eyes blown wider from the lack of light in the silent room. 

Alistair was clumsily tugging off his clothing too. 

The human then helped him out of his under-garments and softly reached under Eli's legs for a moment, preparing to lift him up. He hissed in pain and his foot jerked up. "Oh my god I'm so sorry! Did I-"

"No. No. It was just the way you lifted me... Guess my leg didn't like that."  
Eli let out a low, disheartened chuckle. Determined, Alistair huffed and tried again. This time elevating him up bridal-style, and lowering the elf carefully down into the hot water that sat still in the porcelain tub. The elf grunted at the sear of it, but settled down with a sigh just as quickly. "S'nice Ali."

Eli hummed resting his head back on the edge, eyes closed in pleasure. Alistair hadn't seen him so content in a while.

"Sorry if hurt you"

Alistair pulled off the rest of his clothes, throwing them across the room. He settled in the tub behind Eli and propped the elf up on his lap. 

With some soap and a small soft cloth, Alistair began to wash the elf's back, rubbing tentative, soothing circles into his shoulder bones and down his spine as gently as a human warrior could. The slow steady sound of water streaming into the bath eased them both and Alistair could feel the tenseness wash away with every scrub. 

Only did the discomfort in Alistair's gut return when Eli began to speak once more. "No, my love... I am the one who should be sorry."

"I overstepped, I should have just let you-"

"Alistair you adorable fool. Just let me apologise. Okay?"  
The warden's cheeks warmed, he nodded and began spreading warm soapy water over Eli's tan chest. "I wish we could stay like this. Together... Before it all goes to the void- just- I wish we never had to leave."

He went to ask what Eli was talking about, but in the moment, he didn't care. He wanted Eli to be happy for once, like he used to. "Don't be silly. If we stayed in the bath for the rest of our lives we'd get all wrinkly!"  
Eli laughed a quiet, but honest chuckle at Alistair's adorable commentary, squirming and settling further into Alistair's thin layer soft, squishy stomach that had been getting softer as the days went by. Eli hadn't seemed to care and the human was too tired to.  
"I could find a healer. The best one in the land. Just for you. Eli, I'd pay all the riches in the world to see you happy again."

Eli tensed, and Alistair could feel it, but it went away just as quickly when he mumbled "ok, my heart."

Eli coughed, scrunching up and whining a little, he was trying his best to hide it though. Without sharing it aloud, Alistair knew Eli was hurting. And not just because of his legs. 

Feeling woe and complete uselessness and noticing the veil of melancholy that had settled between them both, Ali began to hum. Slow and soft, words that he had etched into his memory. "Beware ye well, my son and belle, beware ye well, the calling. For you will face, with time and grace, our failure, and our falling. My failure, and my falling..."

Alistair knew it was a poem, but the way it was scribed in his memory, it had a tune to it. A few more verses and he felt tears pricking in his eyes, Eli had shuddered too. Soon he was letting out low, uncontrollable, but quiet sobs. The water flow had ceased now. "For though you win, hold fast your twin, there's danger celebrating. Renew this day, and call callay, but now begins the waiting, as then began my waiting..."

The raw emotion in Alistair voice even disturbed him.  
"Beware ye well, my son and belle, the red, your will it leeches, and wait you will, for your kin to kill, until your heart it reaches... Unless my lesson teaches..."  
Eli breathed lowly, weeping lightly into the man's embrace. "I- I think my birth-mother... All I can remember is her beautiful midnight black hair. Yes. She used to sing it to me when I was a babe. It's a lullaby. I don't know why, but it always reminded me of the wardens. Strange huh? To realise I would one day be one. I feel like... When I sing that song, it was my destiny to be here, with you. And when I hear it, I know she's with me, looking after me. And now I want it to be ours. And I want it to remind you that I'm here for you always..."

He kissed the top of the elf's head, and Eli subconsciously tilted his head up to face Alistair upside down. They chastely, tenderly kissed, even if it was uncomfortable. Alistair carefully, slowly shifted Eli around to face him head on, caressing his soft cheeks, the light press of Eli's palms to his bare chest, deepening the kiss. It was soft, not lustful like Eli used to always be, but heavy with raw emotion and Alistair could feel the wetness of Eli's cheeks and wanted to part and wipe his tears away, but he was too invested in the elf's mouth to care. Tongues danced and suddenly the water and everywhere but his lovers mouth was cold. He indulged, soaking in the steamy air that was thick with wilted passion.

Despite Alistair's tiny whine, Eli took a breath, whispering slowly and quietly.

"I love you Alistair..."

"Okey dokey, me too."

Alistair breathed back, smiling into another soft, peck. Eli suddenly pushed himself away from Alistair, staring into the humans eyes, pressing their foreheads together. Oaky brown clashing with a deep, forever changing, hazel. "I mean it. I know I'm not always going to be in as good a mood as I am now, so I want you to know no matter what I do or do not say, or how I act, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me."

"And you, me."

They crushed together again, melting into tepid water around them, kissing without a breath for so long they could count. When they parted, Eli must have noted the painful expression on Alistair's face because he sighed and reached up to brush his hands against the man's cheek and up to his hair. "You aren't responsible for this Alistair... You can't fix everything."

"I know, but I can try-"

"Then let's try together. They are my legs, after all."

Alistair let out a light, mirth-filled chuckle, and made a gesture to the door with his head. "You wanna?-"

Eli nodded, suddenly feeling freezing. He let out a small sneeze, which made the human giggle again.

})|({

As they rolled around outside, Alistair desperately tried to make his boyfriend laugh, whilst avoiding as many sets of steps as he could. There weren't many guards on duty, which didn't worry either warden, most were celebrating the new year with their families or getting some rest and recovering from the battle with as much sleep and ale as possible. 

The chilly cold definitely not catching inside their clothes today, Alistair had made sure to place almost four warm fur-covered coats to snuggle Eli inside, plus two blankets for good measure. Alistair left with only one, black, pauldron covered cloak, he continued to assure the Elf he was not cold and tried to lie as best he could. "I look utterly rediculous Ali-"

"Hush now, you look adorable."

"If my family could see me now..." 

The elf smiled and laughed a little, before his eyes widened -even more than their neutrally giant state- in shock at what he'd just said. Slowly they lowered down in despair... "Hey. Hey. Eli. Did you see them die?"  
Alistair crouched down and grabbed the small jagged chin Eli bore and lifted it up to meet his eyes. The elf pouted, shaking his head. 'Thank god.'  
Alistair thought. "Then they could still be alive! They could still be fine! We are heading to Denerim tonight remember? I'm sure we will have some spare time to look for them."  
The human warden smiled warmly, taking the elf's hand in his own. Alistair nodded into the small Elf's eyes never seeing him look more like an innocent child than in that moment. "I promise we will find them. Alive."  
Eli nodded, uncertainty doused in his tears which made his eyes sparkle. The strawberry-blond knew it wasn't a promise he could keep, but he assured both Eli and himself by continuing. "And from what I've seen of Shianni, she can take care of the entire alienage with one hand tied behind her back." 

Eli nodded, closing his eyes in deep thought and Alistair left him to it by pushing him further around the courtyard.

Later into the wander, both wardens felt the bright light and heat above them. Alistair was especially surprised to see a few patches of sunshine. "Look! Even the sun has come out to greet you!" 

He threw his hand up melodramatically, which earned him a playful shove from the tiny warden. His voice was weak from disuse but he smiled anyway "Maker your corny."

"That's me! Unpleasant news-"

"And witty one liners, I know" 

They finally let all the tension wash away, like everything was once as it was; without the imminent threat of death at their backs, they caved, and began to laugh, it wasn't the fake, pretend ones they'd both been forcing for the last month, this was a real, shared, hearty laugh, -even slightly hysterical- they basked in each others humour. 

Alistair didn't know about his lover, but he personally couldn't keep off the stupidly ridiculous smile that seemed carved onto his face.

Once the quiet settled once more like a cloud, Eli hummed and after gaping his mouth open, and closed and open again in the span of 5 minutes, he eventually spoke.

"I met some spirits in the fade, Alistair."

Alistair's eyes widened at what he had just said. But kept his head forward, not looking down at the elf and continued to push the wheel chair up a conveniently placed ramp.

Unsure if the elfroot was making him think things or he was serious, Alistair finally gave in and asked. "/Some/ spirits? Like... Demons? more than one?"

Eli's head moved up and down. "No, not demons. Spirits. Fortitude and faith. Apparently they foresee some kind of terrible future. One I have to stop apparently."

Even though Alistair was skeptical, he indulged the elf. "You're joking right? You can't- cant-"

"Walk. I know. But maybe there's truth behind it. Maybe I can be cured..."

Alistair grinned, heat warming his cheeks. "If anyone can do it, it's you. I know it, love"

"Us."

He whispered quietly as a bird swooped overhead, cawing louder than either of their breaths could be heard. "Maybe we should try and start walking? We take it day by day, a little bit at a time-"

"A good idea, I believe."

"Let's try now then"

Eli stiffened, that much Alistair could tell, but he kept a comforting smile upon his face. 

They both wandered over to a clearing in the courtyard where the snow was slowly melting away. "How to do this... How to- oh!"  
He pushed Eli over to a wall where a small pole was used for the horses to be tied up upon. But all the horses were gone out on trips across Fereldan or sleeping in their stables. Much like the rest of the castle "Let's just try standing up first ok?"

"Mmph."

Eli mumbled, holding one hand out for the young man to take, the other gripped tightly, white-knuckles on the beam. He watched Alistair move his feet to the ground with a small thump, and positioned them spread a little.

"Here we go. If you can't do it, it's ok. Nobody is expecting you to get it on the first day... It's impossible, and we both have to accept that."

"Uh huh."

Slowly, Alistair gripped the boy, tugging him up and pulling him into a hug. If need be, the human could easily lift the elf up and place him back down in the chair...

so that's what he did.

Eli's fist attempt didn't go at all well, which was to be expected. Alistair was proud of his lover for making it as far as he had. Eli was not a patient man, but if they were going to make it through whatever strange oncoming danger the elf was talking about before, he was going to have to be. Alistair was surprised by the lack of yelling the small elf warrior had done, and once he was exhausted, which was quite quickly, he sat down and Alistair guided him back to his quarters to prepare for Denerim. 

})|({

"Psst."  
Zevran tapped Alistair on the shoulder lightly - right where his chain-mail met his metal plate- for the hundred and twelfth time. "Psst. Alistair. Psst."

The elf was sitting next to Alistair the entire carriage ride up to Denerim, much to the wardens utter displeasure. Although he cared for and would anything for him, he'd spent the last gruelling year with the Antivan, and his patience for the same familiar faces everyday was wearing extremely thin. "What is it Zev?"

Alistair groaned. "Well someone obviously did not wake up on the right side of the wagon..."

Zevran cocked his eyebrow and smiled broadly with his gums. Even went to the trouble of waggling his dark, almost black eyebrows. "For the last time, it's not a wagon. It's a-"

"A carriage, as you repeatedly continue to reiterate. But surely this cannot be Ferelden's /royal/ carriages no? This looks like it was built for a commoner!"  
He made his point even clearer by banging his fist lightly on the chipped and dully painted wood surrounding them both, encasing the warden in what was slowly becoming a torturous prison. "In Antiva-"  
Alistair groaned a second time, with a 'here we go again', which only made Zevran smile more and speak louder, "the travels were set in style; gold laced every beam, charges and mounts alike donned in the finest of jewelled armours, wine and peeled grapes served to you on platters! Here in Dog-Lord-country though-"  
The elf scoffed, and rolled his eyes, before something outside caught his attention. "Oh joy, we have arrived."

"Really? Thank the maker!"

The warden threw his arms up in disbelief and relief. "Now the moment we go through the gates of Denerim, your life and the fine warden's life will be in danger. You've got everything such as discussed?"  
Alistair nodded, shifting uncomfortably in his suit, thinking about how Eli was all alone in another chariot, further ahead of them both.  
This made both the warden and the assassin uneasy, and Alistair had no idea why Zevran looked as pale as he did, but thought nothing of it but the cold Fereldan air. "Good. I shall see you on the morrow, dear friend... And; Try to stay alive, yes?"

And with that, the sly elf winked, and slunk out of the vehicle and into the shadows of the city as if he hadn't even been there.

A large horn sounded off, screeching at their arrival "now, introducing!... The Warden of the Grey himself! Eli Tabris! Vanquisher of the Archdemon of the fifth blight!"

Alistair hopped out of his chamber, rolling his eyes "I stabbed it a couple times too you know."

He mumbled, jealousy and angst-filled his stomach. He didn't expect Anora to acknowledge his presence other than when he was given his 'queens favour'.

Despite the overcast the light from outside blinded him and stung the wardens eyes as he rolled them and stepped out of the carriage's windowless door.

This was going to be a long three days...


End file.
